Marking the Red X
by xxZanexx23
Summary: The man behind the mask has return, ready and willing to face his past in Gotham. Ahead of him is a choice: be a Hero or a Villain. Watch as during season two of Young Justice, Red X makes that very decision.


**Disclaimer: All items are property of DC Comics. All I own is my interpretation and story involving these characters. If I infringe on any copyrights, I will take anything in question down as quickly as possible. Thank you, and please enjoy the story. **

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The hour is well past midnight, and I do not know where to head to next: maybe the old warehouse, or maybe the abandoned Gotham Amusement park down the next corner. All I know was that I was trying to relive the past, the past before I became Red X, the past before everything went to hell.

I can hear the sound of the city from here, as cars drive on the road heading home for the night. "_You can't help how you feel," _My father once said, _"but you can shape how others do." _For such a wise man, I could not help but feel that he was lying. I could suppress this pain throbbing within my heart, as I slowly approach the Circus; I could as I went in. So why when I look at the picture in front of me, it sends chills up my spine.

My hands touch the cold, defoliating photo. It crinkles under my touch, and I retreat, enlisting my hand into the safe protection of my chest. I slowly turn away from the photo, as I had done years ago at my_Father's_ funeral and walk away. I remember each passage of this Circus, and the moments I had with him here. Sometimes, after the show, he would sit in a chair beside my bed, reading, _Peter Pan and Wendy_. Sometimes, during the show, he would fake an accident as he soar through the raptors, imitating _Peter's_ fearlessness that I so admired. My father, although not the richest man in town, had in _us_, a way of showing he was the wealthiest man alive. It strikes me that, although years have passed, I still find myself traveling through these halls – knowing every direction, which way to go, and the rich memories behind them.

The Hall of Fun-House Mirrors is ironic. Not because, when my family and I lived here, my mother, my _sweet mother_ refused to let me enter, but the idea that each moment of my life is here – no matter how long it has been. I can still see the reflection of that young boy, who loved his parents. Here, there is no time. Only words and memories – some old, others new - even the one five days ago:

Blue skies like this make my day. In Gotham, everything seems so dark, so menacing. Sometimes even the sky shudders— not today, however. Clouds across the firmament spin as I watch from atop an I-beam near the old construction site. Today marks the sixth anniversary of its closing.

A whisper voyages in the wind. It slowly enters my ears, and in another moment, white hair cascades above my forehead, halfway blending in with the matching clouds and partially covering my inclined head, looking upward. For such an exquisite and extraordinary sight, this white as snow hair irritates my upper-brow. Beyond that irritation, the tickling reflects a familiarity. A long reminiscence of those days gone by, when Rose and I first met. Those days are gone, just like the hair. Here _she_ is, however – right in front of me.

Rose points a sword at me. "Long time no see." I say, glancing at the blade near my neck. "Are you paying your old friend a face-to-face visit this time?"

"No." Her words sharpen as if refining the blade. "Seems like you are paying _me_ a visit…" Her words obviously target the item beside me: my duffle bag, which lies on the beam, leaving a small chance of me falling off. Space is limited here, but I do not think Rose cared; she never did.

The clouds still drift on, similar to how I imagine the thoughts flowing in her head. The simplest and thus the clearest thought she held: attack. The blade came close to striking my throat, but I had dodged in time, causing the sword to miss by inches and me flipping backwards. She came again swinging the sword as I land on my feet, directly on the beam. This time I brought my hand up, brandishing the X-shape weapon, I had used for years. Our weapons met, clinging together the rioting animosity between us. She does not stop. Instead, she revokes her weapon back and strikes again. She repeats this repeatedly until somehow we make our way onto the ground beneath us, panting. I see that her eyes are still lock onto mine.

She inhales, "How do you think joining The Light will help you?"

"I-"

"Don't interrupt me, Jason!" She flings a knife at me, which sails pass, nicking my cheek. "How can you join the organization my father is in, and not expect me to react violently?"

"What do you want me to do, Rose? I have no other option!"

"Think, think!" She demands. "There are always other options."

"No. There isn't." I throw my X-arang to the side, kicking up some dust as it bounces off the earth. Had I known coming back meant a fight with Rose, I would have never come. "Even if there was, there is no time."

"Jason-"

"Rose, drop the sword and leave."

She crouches, with the sword gleaming in the sun, which reflects the image of an unmasked Red X— me. "I can't."

I glance away.

"I know what you want," Rose says. Dirt crinkles as feet move.

"What is that?"

Her blade swooshes through the wind. Instead of the harsh, grueling pain, I undergo something gentle: Rose's hand, which raises my chin to gaze in her eyes – at least one of them. A surge of emotion channels through her lips. "Revenge," She leans closer. "Reconciliation," Her eyelid shrinks. "Respect," She is so close, so close to— to hell with it. Rose and I are lips and tongues, melting into one, manipulating our bodies closer and closer. How long has it been since I struggled with this unpredictable woman, who attacks me when we meet again, how long has it been. I remember that yearning, an emotional build up that I, had for her long ago, which seemingly has never subdue. Finally, we release from each other's embrace, and my eyes, which I did not realized had closed, open. Her sword somehow found its way stuck in the earth between us, almost how I thought our relationship went.

"For someone who wanted me to leave," She says, "You seem to have enjoyed that."

There is something subversive behind her eyes, far more than usual. My voice speaks up, "I see you dropped your sword quickly; I guess that skill of _shedding certain things_ hasn't gone away." Then whatever it was that I saw, disappears. In its place, a smile: this fits this hazardous girl so well – smiling after trying to kill me.

"…I'm a good girl now."

'Sure," I smirk, "you are a part of_Young Integrity_, or whatever you guys call yourself."

"Why don't you put your mask on 'Red? I think your envy is showing."

So here we are, fighting once again – at least without the swords and X's. Surprisingly, she has not changed, and I am glad because of it. "So," I ask, "How did you decide?"

_For a second, I am not sure she understood the question, before her lips tighten, and then a smile framed her face. "I got tired of being alone."_

It was time, I thought, to decide. However, it strikes me that, although years have passed, I still find myself needing to pick a side. When I told Rose, _"I need some time to think things over."_ I did not know when or even if I could; I was never a Villain; and I was never a Hero. Now, I could no longer stay on the fence.

I glance at one of the mirrors, projecting a change in the proportion of my head so large, that I hope it would not be true. I do not want to change.

"_Do whatever you feel you have to do…" Rose said, and then added. "I hope someday you'll accept my offer and join us."_

"You can't help how you feel," I murmur, "but you can shape how others do." I hope that this decision will not affect either.

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**Author's Note:** **This story came to me as I had an inner craving for writing another story here on the website. Young Justice, being one of my favorite shows at the moment, and I, liking comic books and cartoons, decided to make a story with one of my favorite characters, Red X. As some of you may have noticed, this character has _many_ attributes to another _Jason _in the DC universe. To stop any thoughts about how similar or exact the characters are, I must say that this is purposeful, as I was developing the background of Red X. However, I cannot say for certain, maybe due to not wanting to spoil anything that the Jason used will be completely like the original in DC. Due to some things, such as fitting him into my story and the new-found stuff going on with his character in The New 52, I thought it was better to use or edit some details of the character. Therefore, I warn any readers who expect this Jason to act exactly like the character they love or hate, please do not think so. As shown, I have added things to Jason's character about his father, his mother, and his favorite childhood story, which I think perfectly fits the alter-ego, Red X.**

**Another character, who those who read comics books may notice is Rose. She, on the other hand, is the same as her character in the comics, with the only exception of me editing some parts of her history to fit the story better. Overall, I think these two characters are wonderful, but please, tell me what you think about Jason, Rose, and all the other characters of Young Justice, and the DC Universe that I will bring in. For now, I leave you somewhat with this cliffhanger, as I begin unfolding the story, Marking the X. **


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